


Actions Speak Louder (or A Useful Demonstration)

by sonata_de_morte



Series: The Adventures of a Pureblood Slut [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Come Shot, Dirty Talk, Gangbang, M/M, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-19
Updated: 2013-03-19
Packaged: 2017-12-05 20:09:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/727417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonata_de_morte/pseuds/sonata_de_morte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Potter smiled. “Meet me at mine tonight around eight, and I’ll show you what I like to see, Malfoy.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Actions Speak Louder (or A Useful Demonstration)

If there was one thing Draco could say about Potter, it was that he was persistent. It didn’t matter how many letters from him Draco burned, there was always another. Over the course of the next week, Potter’s owl was waiting at his kitchen window when he got up in the morning and when he arrived home from work. Draco had taken to feeding the poor bird because all of this back and forth had to be exhausting.

It was exhausting for him, too, though. Several times he had been tempted to just open the damned letters and see what Potter wanted, but that was how he had wound up in this mess in the first place. The fact that Potter wouldn’t let this go was as good as proof that the man was getting too attached and it was better that they end it.

He told himself that over and over again, including when he walked into his shop on Friday morning, especially since Potter was leaning against the side of his shop, clearly waiting for him. “Malfoy, what the hell?” he demanded.

Draco sighed and unlocked the door. “I think that’s my line, Potter. As an Auror you should know that stalking is highly illegal.”

“I’m not…” Potter sighed. “What’s going on, Malfoy? I thought…”

He didn’t really want to hear what Potter thought. He wanted to slam the door in his face, but Potter had caught it and was letting himself right in as if he owned the place. But then, Potter was quite good at acting like he owned things. “I’m at work, Potter. Shouldn’t you be going off to save the world or something?”

“It’s my day off.”

Draco gave the man a once over and noted the absence of the robes. “Well, as you can see, it’s not mine. So, if you don’t mind…”

“I do mind.”

“Of course you do,” Draco muttered. He still had an hour before the store opened properly, and it was probably better to get this out of the way. “What do you want, Potter? I didn’t think there was anything left to say.”

“That’s just it,” Potter replied, sounding frustrated. “You haven’t even _said_ anything. You’ve just been ignoring me for nearly a week.”

Draco rolled his eyes. Subtlety was completely lost on some people. “I was making a point, Potter. Honestly.”

“And the point was that you don’t want to see me, anymore?”

“He _can_ be taught,” Draco said dryly, giving a sarcastic clap and trying to ignore the little pang he felt at the look on Potter’s face.

“Why, though?” he asked with a frown. “We had fun last week. It’s not like that’s the only thing I had planned.”

“That’s not the point.”

The other man glared at him, raking his hands through his hair. “Then what _is_ the bloody point, Malfoy?” he demanded. “Because you’re acting like a right prat.”

Draco glared. “I don’t owe you anything, Potter. You do know that, don’t you? We had fun, and we should just leave well enough alone, before…” he trailed off.

“Before what?” Potter demanded.

“Before you try to turn it into something it’s not!”

He said that rather louder than he had meant to, and he sighed, raking a hand through his own hair before smoothing it back down. Potter seemed to be processing, and Merlin knew that could take some time, so Draco went about getting the shop ready to open for the day, shooting the occasional glance at the other man.

“You know what I think it is?” Potter asked finally. “I think you’re scared.”

“I’m not afraid of you,” Draco replied flatly.

“Not of me. Of _this_. You know that there’s something here, but you’re afraid of it. What? You don’t think you can have your cake and eat it, too?”

Draco blinked and looked at him in confusion. “What does cake have to do with anything?”

“Sorry. Muggle saying. What I mean is, you seem to think that you’re going to have to give something up if this…if we…took this further.”

“You don’t know what I think, Potter, so I’d advise you to quit while you’re ahead.”

Potter huffed. “That’s all you know how to do, isn’t it? Give up? Quit. Get out while the getting is good. You don’t want to even try and see what could happen. I’m not…I wouldn’t make you change, Draco.”

There was a softness in Potter’s voice that made Draco’s mouth go dry, but he shook his head, not willing to entertain that. “Yes, you would. Things couldn’t stay like they are and work. It’s impossible.”

“Not between us, Draco. I mean, yeah, I’d like it if you stopped going out every Friday to get fucked by an endless stream of men, but I wouldn’t treat you any differently.”

“I _like_ getting fucked by an endless stream of men,” Draco hissed. “And if you have a problem with that-”

“You think I have a problem with it?” Potter asked, sounding incredulous. “You really don’t get it. Look, I have an idea, so just hear me out, yeah? I know you probably get off on not knowing who is fucking you when you’re at Zabini’s club, but would you ever let people see your face? If they didn’t know you?”

“Potter, everyone knows me.”

Potter smiled. “ _Here_ they do, yeah. But I know a place where they won’t. Meet me at mine tonight around eight, and I’ll show you what I like to see, Malfoy.”

It was stupid, and Draco should have given him a firm no and then sent him on his way for good, but he hesitated and Potter was walking out the door before Draco could get a word in. It irritated him how Potter somehow always managed to get under his skin. Even more than that, it irritated him that he was actually wondering if Potter was serious about things not having to change. He sighed and shook his head, giving himself a mental slap. The best thing to do would be to go back to ignoring the overly persistent idiot.

* * *

But, of course, that is not what Draco did. He couldn’t help it. There was something about Potter that piqued his interest, and so far, he had not been disappointed. The other man had a filthy mouth and an excellent stock of ideas, if the last two weeks had been any indication. As long as Draco made it clear that this was about sex and nothing else, then everything would be fine. He could certainly do that.

At eight exactly, Draco was knocking on the door to Potter’s house. He hadn’t wanted to seem too eager, but his need for punctuality had won out. When the other man came to the door, Draco gave him a look that dared him to comment.

Apparently Potter got the message. Instead he looked Draco up and down and whistled appreciatively. “You’re going to be a hit tonight, I can already tell,” he said, shaking his head and licking his lips.

Draco smirked. He had assumed that they would be going out, so he had dressed up just a bit. He was wearing jeans that were so tight they looked like they had been painted onto him, as well as an ice blue shirt that made his eyes seem more silvery blue than they actually were. His hair was left to frame his face, and he blew his fringe out of his eyes as he looked Potter over as well.

He had to admit that the man looked stupidly good in just about anything. Potter hadn’t even gone to much trouble, and he looked delicious. Jeans and a red shirt should not have been so damned hot, but there it was.

“Where are we going?” Draco asked, tearing his eyes away.

“There’s a club in Muggle London that I used to go to when I needed to scratch an itch and I still cared what people thought of me. It’s very private, but not as high class as you would expect, trust me. I think you’ll like it.”

“And I won’t end up in the Prophet tomorrow?” Draco wanted to know.

“You won’t. If I managed it, then you certainly can.” Potter held out his arm and smiled. “Shall we go?”

“I suppose we shall,” Draco replied, resting his fingers against Potter’s arm and trying not to think about how warm he was.

* * *

Draco had to fight the urge to sneer when they arrived at the club. It was clear that it was trying for class with the way it was set up, but it had the atmosphere of somewhere much seedier. Music thumped through the club as they entered, and Draco could see couples against walls and in corners through the smoke filled air.

There was a man on his knees, sucking another man to the root right by the bar, and no one was batting an eyelash. On the dance floor was a tangle of bodies, all gyrating and rubbing against each other. Hands moved over clothing and skin, and over the scent of smoke and sweat in the air, the smell of sex was just as prevalent.

His inner Malfoy recoiled at the overwhelming sensation of it all, but something low in him tightened, and Draco relaxed just a little.

Potter placed a hand on the small of his back and steered him over to the bar, a few places down from the two men, though their noises could just be heard over the beat of the music. With a grin, Potter leaned over the bar and prodded the barkeeper in the back.

The man turned and gave a surprised laugh. “Well, if it isn’t Jamie Evans,” he said. “We haven’t seen you around here for months.”

“I know,” Potter replied. “Been busy, you know.”

The bartender arched an eyebrow and looked at Draco appraisingly. “So I see. The usual?”

“Make it two, Robbie.”

“Coming up.”

Potter made himself comfortable on one of the stools, so Draco did the same, leaning into Potter while Robbie’s back was turned. “Jamie Evans?” he murmured.

“Yeah,” Potter replied with a shrug. “I couldn’t risk giving out my real name in case anyone here might know it. That one’s good enough.”

“Should I have come up with a fake name as well?” Draco wanted to know.

Potter grinned. “You won’t need one. You’ll hardly have time to be introducing yourself anyway.”

The promise in Potter’s voice made Draco shiver with anticipation, and when Robbie put their drinks down in front of them, Draco had downed his in a matter of seconds. The alcohol was subtle, but he could feel it warm him from the inside, and he let out a breath, turning his eyes back to Potter to watch as the other man drank his drink more slowly.

There was something utterly delicious about the way Potter licked his lips, chasing the drops of alcohol and swallowing before replacing the glass and sliding money across the bar. “Anything good tonight, Robbie?” he asked.

The bartender smiled. “The same old. Bunch of randy looking blokes came in half an hour ago. Probably in the back somewhere.”

Potter smiled at him. “Thanks.” He got up from his stool and looked at Draco. “Ready?”

Draco had some idea of what Potter was thinking by now, and his heart sped up. He managed a nod and got up as well, following Potter through the smoky darkness of the club to a small hallway.

There was a line outside of the men’s, and several of the men waiting watched as Draco made his way down the hall with Potter. He could feel their eyes lingering on him, their gazes hot on his arse, and there were even a few whispers that made him smirk. Apparently Muggles had good taste, then.

Potter seemed to know what he was thinking, and he turned to look at Draco. “We’ve not been here five minutes, and you’re already thinking about getting fucked, aren’t you?” he asked, loud enough that most of the men in the hall could hear.

One of them leaned a bit closer, and Draco could smell the alcohol on his breath when he spoke. “If that’s the case, I’d be more than happy to oblige.”

In the dim light of the hall, Draco could barely see the man, but he could tell that he was bulky and muscular, and there was a noticeable bulge in his denims. Draco licked his lips and glanced over at Potter who shrugged.

“You don’t need my permission,” he said.

Draco was on his knees in an instant, nimble fingers working at the fly of the man’s trousers.

“Well fuck,” the man said. “I wasn’t expecting…”

Potter laughed. “Gift horses and all of that,” he said waving a hand. “If there’s a willing slut, why question it?”

“He _is_ willing, isn’t he? And he looks like he’s good with his mouth.”

“Oh, he is,” Potter agreed. “Why don’t you show him just how good you are, slut?”

Draco couldn’t help but moan at that. Something about being called a slut turned him on something fierce, and the other men in the hall had turned their attention to him. That was one thing that was missing from what he did at Blaise’s club. Only one person at a time got to have a go at him. Now there were at least five men clustered around, and a couple of them had reached inside of their trousers and were clearly palming their cocks.

But he had a job to do, so he focused on that, pulling out the man’s cock and groaning. It was hot and thick in his hand, shorter than his own or Potter’s but thick and veined. He curled his hand around the base of it and gave the head a languid lick, enjoying the noise the man made in response.

Usually Draco would look up at whoever he was doing this to, but this time his eyes sought Potter’s. He was leaning against the wall with his arms folded, watching intently, so Draco decided to put on a show.

He took the man’s cock all the way into his mouth, grunting when it hit his throat, but not choking. He had mastered his gag reflex ages ago.

Draco held there for a moment before sucking back up the shaft, tongue working the underside of the cock in his mouth. He bobbed his head, taking more and more as he sucked, relishing in every noise that the man made.

Suddenly Potter chuckled and moved from the wall. “Now, now,” he said. “We can’t have that. Good little cock sluts don’t get to set the pace, now do they?”

Potter moved behind him, and Draco gave a muffled cry as fingers fisted in his hair, dragging him back off of the cock he was sucking before pushing him back onto it, forcing him to suck faster and deeper.

“Fuck,” the man moaned, and Potter laughed, continuing to force feed the man’s cock to Draco.

“He loves this kind of thing,” Potter said. “I bet he’s already hard from it. Little whore.”

Draco moaned, drool and precome slipping past his lips as he fought to breathe through his nose. This was all so new to him. He was used to being used, but all of that had been his decision. He had set it up. Now Potter was in control, and there was something thrilling about just letting go and letting him do as he pleased.

It didn’t take long for the man to lose it, and Potter shoved him down hard so that his nose was nestled in the thatch of coarse pubic hair. He had to swallow quickly when the hot, bitter come hit his throat, and he gasped for breath when Potter pulled him off.

Before Draco could do much more than blink surprised tears from his eyes, Potter was forcing him to turn to the side where another hard cock was waiting, pointing straight at his face. He had a split second to swallow, and then he was being forced onto that one as well. It stretched his lips obscenely, and Draco tried to use his tongue while his head was moved back and forth.

“I think you can do better than that, slut,” Potter said. “You have hands, don’t you? And there are others waiting.”

Immediately, two men moved to either side of him, pulling their erections out. Draco whimpered around his mouthful and got to work, wrapping his fingers around each one and trying to stroke in time with the movement of his head.

The crowd was growing, and Draco could feel his own erection pressing against the fly of his denims. It turned him on to know that so many men were watching, getting off on seeing him like this. His chest heaved as he panted for breath, and just as the man whose cock he was sucking was getting ready to come, Potter pulled his head back so that the come splattered on his face.

He was moved to one of the cocks that he had been tugging on with his hand, and he sucked that one, too, moving his hand to another cock.

There always seemed to be one more in the circle, someone coming to fill the empty space that was left whenever someone came. Draco’s jaw was sore, and he was losing track of how many cocks he was sucking. Potter just kept moving him, keeping a tight grip on his hair. Draco knew that he was a mess of come and spit, and it was humiliating to be used like this, like he was no more than a common whore, but it was intoxicating at the same time. His cheeks were pink at the things Harry and the other men were saying, and he was so hard that it hurt.

He was so close to coming himself, but during one of the rare breaks Potter allowed him for air, a spell had been whispered in his ear, and a tingle of magic had accompanied it. He could feel a ring snug about the base of his cock, and Draco knew he wouldn’t be coming until Potter allowed it.

That just made him even harder.

Draco swallowed as the cock he was currently sucking erupted into his mouth, and this time when Potter pulled him off, he let go. Had he been in his right mind, Draco would have scolded him for the treatment of his hair, but his brain was foggy with lust and need, and he felt woefully empty.

Potter grabbed his shoulders and hauled him to his feet, turning him to face the nearest wall. Instinctively, Draco braced his hands against it and pushed his arse out, needing his other hole to get some attention as well.

“Look at that,” Potter said, and Draco could feel his hands on him through his denims. “It seems the slut needs more.”

Draco cried out when Potter brought his hand down on his arse with a sharp slap, but he pushed back into the flare of pain, moaning for more.

Instead of spanking him again, Potter reached around and undid the button and zip on Draco’s trousers, pulling them down unceremoniously and revealing the fact that Draco hadn’t bothered to put on pants. His cheeks flushed at the thought of the assembled crowd seeing him like that, but he held still, letting Potter grope and squeeze at his arse.

“Such a pretty, pretty whore,” Potter murmured in his ear before he grabbed the cheeks Draco’s arse and pulled them apart, showing off his hole to the men who were still there. “He’s still so tight,” he said. “No matter how many cocks he takes. And I bet he wants some right now. Don’t you?”

Draco nodded, but Potter slapped his arse again, the sound of his hand ringing out in the hall.

“I want to hear it,” he hissed.

“Yes,” Draco panted. “Yes, I want some cock. Please!”

“You heard him,” Potter said, sounding amused.

There was no way of knowing who was fucking him, but Draco knew enough to know that it wasn’t Potter. Thick, rough fingers coated in lube opened him up, and then they were replaced by a long cock that pushed into him in one go.

Draco cried out and pushed his arse back, rolling his hips. He hadn’t been stretched much, and the burning press of that cock into him made him see stars. His own cock was hard and leaking, curved up towards his stomach. He didn’t know if the men could see the magical cock ring that Potter had put there, but it was a torment. Draco could have come several times over by now, but he was being held back, and the control that Potter was holding over him only made the need greater.

The man who was fucking him grabbed onto Draco’s hips, his grip nearly bruising as he pulled Draco back into each sharp thrust.

“Not. Going. To. Last,” he grunted, and then there was a rush of warmth as he came inside of Draco.

Draco’s breathing was labored, and he wanted to curl a hand around his cock, but he kept them both pressed flat against the wall. “More,” he moaned lowly, and he didn’t have to ask twice. Since he was already stretched and wet from lube and come, the next man slid in easily. He fucked Draco even harder than the first, slamming his body into the wall with punishing thrusts.

Draco turned his head and saw Potter watching off to the side, his hand pressed against his crotch as he palmed his cock. Their eyes met, and Draco could see the heat in them even in the dim hallway. There was no jealousy there. Just arousal and something that looked a bit like pride, though Draco couldn’t be sure.

The man reached up and grabbed one of Draco’s nipples between his fingers, pinching and rolling it as he pounded into him. Draco would have spread his legs wider, but his trousers were around his knees, hobbling him. It wasn’t bondage in the traditional sense, but he was restricted, and it made his cock leak a sticky glob of precome that dribbled down the shaft.

It was torture to not be able to come through this, though the men didn’t seem to notice, caught up in their own pleasure. One more fucked him against the wall, filling his arse and making the excess come spill out of him and leak down his thighs.

Potter came back over and pushed Draco down onto his hands and knees, and Draco whined wordlessly as Potter knelt behind him and pushed three fingers into his sore hole. It reminded him of what started all of this, and he closed his eyes and tried to roll his hips back. “Please,” he begged. “Please, I need to come.”

“You can come on my cock,” Potter said. “Now that you’re all loose and sloppy like a proper whore should be, I think I’ll take my turn. But I like to share, so.” He waved over one of the men who was still watching, and he walked over, pulling out his cock. “Let’s see how you like being stuffed full of cock in both holes.”

Seconds later, Potter was sliding into him, and Draco was surprised that he could feel the familiarity of his cock. His arse clenched around him, trying to drag him in deeper.

“Open wide,” said the other man, and Draco obeyed, lifting his head and opening his mouth to accept the cock that was rubbed against his lips.

As soon as he had taken the cock in his mouth, Potter started thrusting. It was an incredible feeling, being airtight, taking two cocks at once and letting them have their way. Potter wasn’t holding back, and Draco knew he was going to be very sore after this. Each hard snap of Potter’s hips sent him rocking forward onto the cock in his mouth. Together the two men worked him between them, and Draco moaned and whimpered, his cock hard and heavy between his legs.

He was making a keening sound, and mumbling something that was probably “please, please, please,” around his mouthful.

Apparently Potter got the hint because there was another rush of magic, and then Draco’s cock was freed.

Potter seemed to be aiming for his prostate then, and Draco jerked as pleasure sped through him, white hot and insistent. He could feel it curling in his stomach and balls, threatening to drown him in sensation. The man pulled out of his mouth and tugged on his cock, coming all over Draco’s already messy face before stepping back to watch Potter finish him off.

Draco’s arms gave out, and he was face down and arse up in the middle of the hall while Potter grunted and pistoned his hips, the sound of their ragged breaths, Draco’s breathless moans, and the slap of skin on skin ringing out.

The head of Potter’s cock hit his prostate in a particularly sharp thrust, and that was all it took to have Draco screaming and clawing at the floor as he came. He shook and shuddered as the pleasure forced its way out of him, whimpering when Potter pulled out of him and came all over his arse with a cry of his own.

Draco collapsed in a heap on the floor, uncaring about how dirty it might be. He was breathing hard and fast, and his head was spinning. There was no way he was going to be able to manage getting up and walking out of there.

Luckily Potter seemed to be on top of things. After a moment to collect himself, Potter was helping Draco up and fixing his clothing. Draco wrinkled his nose when the come on his arse soaked through his trousers, but Potter just laughed and helped him into the bathroom.

It was blessedly empty, and Draco leaned against the cool tile of the wall, sucking down greedy breaths of air.

“Are you alright?” Potter asked, smoothing hair out of Draco’s eyes.

Draco just nodded, quirking a tiny smile at Potter. This man would never stop surprising him, it seemed.

Once it was clear that no one else was about to come in and see, Draco was wrapped in Potter’s arms and Apparated to his own house.

“How do you know where I live?” he asked, frowning as they appeared outside of his door.

“I’m an Auror,” Potter replied. “I make it my business to know these things.”

“Stalker.”

Potter huffed. “Are we going in or not? I want to get you cleaned up.”

Draco wanted to argue that he could clean himself up perfectly well, but instead he just made the wards let them in, too tired and too sated to worry about it now.


End file.
